There is a flower, a little flower With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky.

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, a day's march nearer home.

Time is eternity begun.

Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower, whence came thy dazzling hue?

Songs of praise the angels sang, Heav'n with alleluias rang, when creation was begun, when God spoke and it was done.

When to the cross I turn my eyes,And rest on Calvary,O Lamb of God, my sacrifice,I must remember Thee.

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed, The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.